


what doesn't kill me makes me want you more

by blushandbooks



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29080965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushandbooks/pseuds/blushandbooks
Summary: when julianna meets luke at the orpheum, she knows in her gut that she should be walking away.he's a demon. she's an angel - well, that part's a little fuzzy.but they shouldn't be talking, except... they do. and she doesn't want to stop.what starts as testing the boundaries of her identity quickly turns into a star-crossed affair, and julianna finds herself in the position of questioning herself, what she's been taught, and what she's willing to lose.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 128
Kudos: 160





	1. fever dream high // bad, bad boy

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A SNEAK PEAK. THIS IS THE FIRST PART OF WHAT WILL BE A LONGER STORY. 
> 
> I AM PLANNING ON HOPEFULLY FINISHING IT OVER THE NEXT MONTH AND THEN BEING ABLE TO PUBLISH IT ON A SCHEDULE, BUT THAT PROBABLY WON'T HAPPEN. HOWEVER, I CAN DREAM. I JUST KNOW I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR A LONG TIME, AND I TALK ABOUT IT ON MY TUMBLR (@blush-and-books) A LOT AND WANTED TO GIVE YOU A HINT AS TO WHAT THE HELL I WAS TALKING ABOUT. 
> 
> again, this is a SNEAK PEAK. idk when the next part is coming out, i just wanted to share the start of my latest passion project. 
> 
> title from the song "cruel summer" by taylor swift!

Julianna was a good angel. 

She knew that, she wasn’t insecure about it or anything, she just… Always felt like she was having to prove herself. And being present at this club, where angels, demons, and mortals alike can socialize, does not feel like she is succeeding in this whole “proving herself” ordeal. 

It wasn’t that Julianna was an overachiever or anything -- far from it, actually. One of her best friends, Flynn, an angel of Faith, nicknamed her “Underachiever” for a reason. But being the daughter of a demon and an angel means that there will always be suspicions surrounding her. 

Her mother, Rose, was a demon. But if there’s anything that Julianna has learned from her father’s private discussions about her mother: It’s that the term “demon” is misused. 

Rose was an angel on almost every account, except her blood. 

Ray and Rose’s relationship was discreet, private, and an impressively-kept secret. When she got pregnant, it was too easy for her to lie about the father of the child… Until Julianna was actually born. 

Everyone around could tell that she wasn’t a pureblooded demon. Ray doesn’t know what exactly happened to Rose--

But he’s pretty sure it involved a lot of fire. And chains. And blood. 

According to the story, Ray had salvaged her from the Underworld and brought her up to the After Realm where he claimed she was an abandoned child he discovered in the moral world, but he thought had an otherworldly aura. It was easy for the Elders to believe him; after all, he was an angel of Mercy. Supposedly, the exact response he received when the elders observed her infant body was, verbatim,  _ “she’s a mix. No wonder she was left.” _

So, growing up, that’s all she was.  _ A mix _ . Not any kind of angel, just living in the in-between. 

Feared to unleash her demonic side at any moment; pressured to conform to the watching eyes that she belonged _ there _ , in the After Realm. 

It was exhausting. She wished she was human every day -- especially right now, looking out at all of them cluelessly dancing to an extremely loud song as she waited for Flynn to get them bottles of water. 

Angels are allowed limited freedom in the mortal world. If they are on an assignment, they can go almost anywhere that the job takes them. There are certain hotspots open and cleared for them to go to, and while  _ The Orpheum _ was a club, it was viewed as a recreational place for the young angels to go and behave responsibly; while observing the scandalous actions of mortals that they would be working on repairing once they were more experienced angels who were given assignments. 

“Are you sure the Council approves of this?” She yells in her best friend’s ear, eyeing a group of sweaty college students who are rapidly swallowing shots of strong liquor and darting to the dance floor to grind on each other. “Or, let me rephrase: Do they approve of  _ me _ being here?”

“What they don’t know won’t kill them,” Flynn grins at her with two water bottles in-hand. “So many of us come here and it’s totally nothing. And stop worrying about them being mad at you. That whole mix thing is like…  _ So _ eighteen years ago.”

“My bloodline isn’t exactly a changing trend, Sweetie. But thanks for the encouragement.”

“Anytime. Now, drink that water so we can go dance!”   
  


At Flynn’s urging, Julianna chugs the bottle and nearly sucks the air from it as well from how quickly she is gulping it down. Once the last drop is gone, an impatient hand is wrapping around her wrist and pulling her into the chaos of the club. 

While she isn’t drunk, the air vibrates around them as a combination of the pounding bass and lights and positive energy in the small space. The club, called _The_ _Orpheum_ , is a hole in the wall with an epic inside space under a cafe. It’s mortal stomping grounds for angels and demons alike, and it’s at that memory that Julianna realizes why it feels so electric around them. 

_ “Can you sense any Horns?” _ She tries to discreetly scream into Flynn’s ear. “Horns” are what they call demons, in order to avoid casually talking about demons in public (even though they are pretty sure the entire demon population has worked out the nickname). 

Her gaze is shifty around the club -- the hardest thing about these kinds of places is that when so many energies mix, not only are angels’ powers diluted, but the indicators of demons are weakened as well. 

Flynn gives her a curious look and shakes her head without a verbal response; and continues dancing not a second later. 

Julianna can’t help but feel off. Why can she sense the demons in the club, but her best friend -- the pureblood, and therefore more powerful angel -- can’t? The buzzing and crackling is taking her attention from any of the music or dancing, as she is dead set on weeding out the people she needs to avoid tonight. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC of the club jumps onto the small stage up front with a mic, “I am very excited to bring to the stage an  _ Orpheum _ regular  _ and _ favorite, Mister Luke Patterson!”

The crackling turns into poignant pops as the performer climbs onto the stage. 

“Flynn!” She tugs on her best friend’s arm. “Him. He’s a _ d-  _ He’s a horn.”

As if this guy, Luke Patterson (or whatever his name is) can hear Julianna’s alarm, his eyes flicker across the audience and land on the two of them. While Flynn tenses out of confusion and fear, Julianna feels herself lock up for a different reason entirely.

His gaze holds a fire, an intensity, that can only be delivered through a demon. Luke is solely focused on her for that whole moment; smirking at her in an unfair way that makes her soul catch fire. While most demons are attractive, Luke presents unrealistic perfection, and even though she knows it’s a design by the Underworld to lure mortals in -- it’s working on her, too. 

(Not that she would ever tell anybody. That’s a secret that will get her locked behind the gates for good.)

All that she can do is exhale briskly when he finally releases her from his stare. Flynn gives her an uneasy look, and suddenly, their night of fun is threatened. 

A small part of Julianna feels the whole night -- her whole life, even -- start to officially shift when the captivating demon starts singing. His voice is raspy, sensual, and beautiful, and it makes perfect sense why he must be a favorite here. Julianna feels her hips start to sway, and her shoulders roll back, and if she closes her eyes then it’s easier to pretend he isn’t the enemy.

(And that he isn’t calling out to the part of her that has been crucified from her soul.)

The conflicted heart in her chest burns with every word he hums into the microphone. Julianna refuses to open her eyes to see what Flynn nor Luke are doing, because she only wants to stay in this euphoric state a moment longer. 

No angels vs. demons, no blazing eyes, nothing to prove to the other angels. 

She’s just a girl listening to a song.  _ That’s all she wants to be at the end of the day.  _

“Flynn! Julianna!” Male voices from behind them cut through the siren song and stir Julianna enough to open her eyes. Two fellow angels, Alexander and William, angels of Mercy and Charity, are walking towards the two girls with linked hands and angelic smiles. “What’re you two doing here?” William asks, giving the two of them side hugs.

“We were in desperate need of a night out,” Flynn laments, followed by a sharp thumb gesturing to Luke onstage. “But Jules thinks Eddie Van Halen up there is a horn, so our buzz might’ve been killed!”

Defensiveness rises in Julie before she can stop it. “I  _ know  _ he is, Flynn.”

“Whoa… You’re able to sense that in here?” Alexander is scanning her up and down with an apprehensive look, as if she’s about to sprout a forked tale. She shrugs insecurely. 

“It’s not intense like it normally is,” an explanation tries to form itself. “I just… Do you not feel that?”

Her three friends eye her with deepening concern. 

“... Feel what?”

Julianna gestures around her head. “The- The buzzing. Like static, but audible, and it’s like-  _ Poking.” _

The mix is definitely not helping her case. She quickly glances behind herself -- you know, just to check that that forked tail hasn’t bloomed -- but when she refocuses her eyes, the angels continue to look at her as if it has. 

“That sounds like you need to go outside for a sec,” Willie nudges her. The smile on his face indicates he wants to comfort her, but the shadow in his eyes as he flickers his gaze between the other two in their group clues her into the fact that they are starting to believe she is insane.

_ Is she? _ She’s starting to feel like she is. 

But she wants them to stop making her feel like that. So she takes the opportunity they’ve given her. 

“You’re probably right,” she nods, backing away slowly. No one notices, not even her, that Luke’s finished a song and the club has returned to their regularly-scheduled EDM. “I’ll just go take a breather out back and come back when I feel better!”

Flynn wishes her goodbye and gives her a kiss on the cheek. Julianna can’t properly read the gesture -- it simultaneously feels kind, friendly, and like she’s being sent away by her loved ones to an institution where she can “get better” -- but she musters a quirk of the lips in return, a goodbye to William and Alexander, and hustles herself out of the club. 

The static is relieved the moment she steps outside -- only to return not a second later. It’s almost worse now that it isn’t coupled with loud voices and pounding bass beats.

Cold air brushes her face instead, striking her nose and ears particularly abrasively. A sigh uncontrollably escapes her lips as she idly stands outside of the club doors, because even though there is pressure against her head, it doesn’t bother her as much.

The feeling of freedom is temporarily overpowering.

With a little shake and a shiver, she clicks her away around to the back of the club so that she is not just awkwardly standing in the middle of the sidewalk. But as soon as she rounds the corner, the buzzing intensifies. 

She can’t help but hissing as her eyes squeeze shut;  _ “fuck.” _

“Wow. Strong language from a halo.”

The startling voice alarms her enough to widen her eyes, but she soon shuts them again as the rapid movement brings further pain to her head. She curses louder. 

“Sorry, did I scare you?”

Julianna’s eyes open much, much slower this time. The deep voice is extraordinarily insincere, despite the words he’s speaking. With a solid effort to not focus her attention on the crackles, she zeroes in on the man standing about ten feet in front of her. 

Luke Patterson. The singing demon. 

_ Turn around, and walk away. _ The deadly serious tone of one of her angelic mentors, Caleb Covington, echoes in her head as she recalls the instruction on what to do when approached by a demon.  _ Turn around and walk away. _

“That’s what you guys call us?” Julianna winces, wondering how in the After Realm she is allowing herself to engage when every alarm in her brain is ringing loud and clear to leave. 

_ Turn around and walk away.  _

_ Turn around and walk away.  _

_ Turn around.  _

_ Walk away.  _

Luke smirks at her. She draws closer. 

“Better than what you guys call us.”

“Debatable.”

Turn around and walk away. 

_ For the love of The Powers That Be, Julianna, why are you not turning around and walking away? _

Thankfully, Luke continues the conversation so that she doesn’t have to. “Did it get to be too much in there? It happens to first-timers.”

He’s leaning against the doorframe of the back exit, with a neon red glow faintly falling over his chestnut hair. Julianna straightens herself up, trying to equal his size. 

“Who said it’s my first time?”

His response comes out with zero hesitation. “I would have remembered you in there before.”

Oh, God. Maybe it’s because he’s a demon, but his flirting game is way too cliche for her. It’s easy to brush aside his question -- and ignore the blood flowing slightly faster through her veins towards her cheeks. 

“Well, it wasn’t too much for me. I just got a headache.”

“... Because it was too much for you?”

“Because of other, unrelated forces.”

The way that Luke tosses his head back to laugh -- albeit at her -- magnetically influences Julianna to take another two steps closer. She lets herself lean against the other side of the doorframe, and ignores the bold red lighting falling on her from the exit sign. 

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he finally responds. It’s not quite the conversation quality she was hoping to get, but she finds herself being internally scolded by the fact that she wanted to keep conversation in the first place. 

He doesn’t say anything else, and neither does she. The depth of night encompasses the two of them in a bubble of silence, where old cars drive to and from in the street and residual bass beats pump through the walls of the club. With red light showering on the two of them, Julianna -- in a moment of weakness -- convinces herself that her current position is okay. She’s technically half-demon, right? She can play both sides. It’s in her blood. 

(She can’t. And upon reflection, she’ll accept that she should have known better, but she won’t regret anything.)

The air has chilled her face into losing all feeling, and her light blue dress and boots are no longer doing the job to keep her warm. It’s ridiculous, really, because she’s an angel and shouldn’t feel the cold --but angels allow themselves more vulnerability when in the mortal realm so they can stay inconspicuous. Demons, on the other hand, are greedy with their luxuries. 

The buzzing is still there, but it has dulled with being closer to Luke. Julianna is desperate enough to believe it when she tells herself that it’s just because her panic over him being a demon has distracted her.

(It’s a lie.)

Even though she hasn’t felt such a quiet peace such as this one in- Well, she can’t quite recall a time where she’s ever felt it. She feels it right now, for the first time. 

It’s intoxicating. 

Which means she needs to get out. 

After clearing her throat, and standing up from her relaxed position against the doorframe, she calmly and kindly backs herself out of the red light.

“Well, I- I’m gonna head back in. See you around, I guess.”

The static flares as she turns around. 

“Wait!” She stops walking, but the vibrations are starting to seriously hurt her head, and she just wants to get back to Flynn so they can go back home. “What was your name?”

_ It’s such a dumb question _ , Julianna thinks to herself. No doubt, a part of his demonic charming methods. If she turned back and looked at him, she would see another stupid sexy smirk on his face without a care in the world for her or her name. 

But his voice pulls on her soul -- sounding genuine, sounding serious. 

She shouldn’t believe he actually wants her name. So, maybe she shouldn’t give him her real name.

(She shouldn’t give him a name, period. But she’s already failed the whole _ turn around and walk away _ thing, so…)

_ “Julie,” _ she calls back to him. “I’m Julie. Thanks for the company, Luke.” 

The buzzing aches painfully in her ears the farther away she gets.

Her smile, however, is painless. 

\--

**bad, bad boy; shiny toy with a price (you know that i bought it)**

Julianna doesn’t tell anybody about Luke. 

There are the obvious reasons why she didn’t: The fact that she could be sent to isolation, banned from leaving the After Realm ever again, and possibly even the chance at falling. 

The personal reasons she has are that she just wants to keep him, and the idea of him, to herself. In a pocket of her heart that she never has to open again. 

The thoughts of him retreat farther and farther into the dark corners of her mind when she’s talking to Flynn, William and Alex about how demons have practically taken over  _ The Orpheum _ . When her dad reminds her to be kind and respectful to her superiors and not overthink about the bloodline of her mother. 

When those same superiors preach the same message every day:  _ Demons are sinful, evil, and are never to be trusted. _

An ache in Julianna’s chest screams that they’re wrong, but it’s not loud enough to get into her throat and out of her mouth. So it just…  _ Rests _ . Arguments and denial that sit uncomfortably underneath her ribs. 

(She never thought she would become so passionate about the topic. She doesn’t admit to herself that it’s only happening after meeting Luke.)

Why is this stupid demon even lingering in her thoughts to begin with? 

All she did was watch him sing, exchange a handful of tense words in a dingy alleyway, and now every time she lays her fingers on the keys of a piano she sees his smile. Flashes of his red-tinted hair in the dark night. His green eyes, neon in her perception, analyzing her as if he could hear the demonic whispers in her gut. The ones that she had been pushing down-

The ones that she  _ is _ pushing down.

A demon that she met one single time is not going to coerce her into throwing herself out of the gates. 

“You’re being careful while you go out with Flynn, aren’t you?” Her father asks her one day while he sits and reads. “I’ve heard demons are crawling all around the mortal realm these days.”

Luke. 

(The name comes to her uninvited. She doesn’t say anything.)

“Of course I am,” she assures him. “But if you’re uncomfortable with me going out-”

“No, no, you can go out. You need to feel like you are one with your peers, not isolated. I don’t want to hold you back from reaching your full potential.” Julianna doesn’t know what her full potential is. She doesn’t know if she’s ever going to reach it. As the doubt swarms her mind, her father approaches her and runs a comforting hand along her head. “Just make sure you’re being safe out there.”

Wordlessly, she nods.  _ Of course she’ll be careful. _

\--

The next time they all go out, it’s in a group. For protection, of course -- it’s hard to detect who is and isn’t a demon, so if they stick together, they can try and be as safe as possible. 

(Julianna doesn’t feel the buzzing instantly. In fact, for the first twenty minutes, her head is pressure-free.)

The five of them -- Julianna, Flynn, Alexander, William, and Nicholas -- are hardly in the club for ten minutes before Nick is trapped at the bar by an alluring beauty with golden brown hair who keeps resting her hand on his arm as she laughs at his jokes. 

“We gotta get him out of there,” William urges her and Flynn. “Ten bucks says that girl’s a horn.”

Julianna agrees. Alexander doesn’t. “It could just be a pretty girl, William. Pretty sure mortal girls touch guys’ shoulders too.”

“If anything happens with her that the Council finds out about, he’s a goner.”

The Council operated on an honor’s system that one would unfortunately expect to come with the ideals of being an angel. There was no Big Brother watching -- your peers, your friends, even your family were your biggest enemy. If you breach conduct, the only way that the Council would find out is if somebody tells them. 

The Council relies on the angels to betray each other in order to prove their own purity. 

(Yes, it’s quite twisted. But they are taught from a young age not to question things.)

“Babe,” Alexander rests a reassuring hand on William’s shoulder, “I swear, it’s probably fine. Nick’s smart. I’ll probably go over and talk to her myself if it’ll prove to you that we are  _ safe _ .”

As the blonde pulls away to drift over to the bar, William, rushes to grab his boyfriend’s left hand. Julianna almost thinks that she sees the raven-haired angel’s eyes sparkling, and she grows concerned that he is about to cry. “Please don’t.”

But Alexander only lays a kiss on his head, and pulls himself away. 

“It’s fine, Babe. Nothing’s gonna happen, I swear!”

“Alex-”

But the music is too loud, and Alexander is too far away, for him to heed any of the following warnings. He approaches the bar, standing off to the side by the girl and Nicholas, when he starts to speak to both of them in a conversation that nobody can hear. Flynn squeezes Julianna’s hand, and leans into her:

“I’m going to bring William to the floor and get his mind off of things. Wanna join?” 

Julianna wants to. She wants to, she is desperate to let loose and enjoy herself, but the moment that she opens her mouth to eagerly accept the opportunity -- it’s back. 

A static popping that courses through her ears and races across the planes inside of her head. Instead of speaking, the only thing that Julianna manages is a distinct wince. Pressure builds around her head. 

It hurts so badly. She needs to stop coming to the mortal realm if she’s going to feel like this. 

(Why does she feel like this?)

“Julianna? What’s wrong?”

William has already wandered off to sulk between the dancing bodies, but Flynn remains by Julianna’s side, clutching the girl’s arm with concern. 

“It’s the headache. The poking, the electric thing, it-” Julianna breathes in and out, heavier with each inhale. “It  _ hurts.” _

Flynn thrusts her bottle of water into the direction of her dear friend. “Drink it, go outside. Come back when things are better. We need to figure out why this is happening, so when we get home we’ll check out the archives tomorrow, okay?”

Faintly, curling her fingers into the bottle, Julianna nods. 

“Okay. Please, go outside, be safe, and-” Flynn leans in even closer, quieting her voice. “If you need to… You can use your wings.”

Ah, her wings. 

Julianna hated her wings. Just the sight of them would be enough to frighten any predator or criminal out of her way -- feathers thinned and tattered from the bleach that Flynn regularly stains them with to keep them white instead of the dirty shade of grey that she was born with. 

(She wonders what Luke’s wings look like. Probably black and leathery and majestic, and a world apart from her own.)

“Right, yeah,” she croaks in response, already turning around to dart towards the door. As she weaves her way through the mortals and possible demons alike, such a strong current flows through her head so rapidly that she is surprised she hasn’t properly exploded. 

_ I’m never coming to the mortal world again, _ she tells herself as she pushes through the door, races up the stairs and starts towards the alley. _ If this is going to happen every time- _

But then it stops. 

It all stops -- the pressure and buzzing and pain, her train of thought, her walking. 

Because she’s walked straight into something. Something that’s breathing, and the air is tickling the airs at the top of her head, and she walked into some _ one _ . 

“Ah, the pretty little halo.”

The voice is too deep and sultry for her to not know who it is before she looks up and meets his eyes. The familiar green that she knew from the stage nights ago, with the same smirk he wore like a necklace. 

It isn’t until she finds herself jumping away from him that she realizes that Luke had his hands -- his calloused, rough hands -- grasping her upper arms. And as soon as they break apart, a light sparking is heard around her ears. The pain is not as bad. 

But it went away when he touched her. 

(No, no,  _ stop. _ She was just distracted by the surprise of running into him that her mind was drawn away from the pain and to his closeness. He did  _ not _ get rid of the headache by touching her.  _ No way _ .)

“You again.”

“Do you even remember my name?”

“Do _ you _ remember  _ mine?” _

Luke scoffs, as if her question was completely and absolutely ridiculous. “Julie.” His tongue curls around the J in a delicious way she’s never heard before, but she doesn’t want to hear anyone else say it but him. 

(Another mental slap across the face. He is a demon. In his mind, this means nothing. He’s programmed like this.)

“Did you come back for another alleyway talk?”

Huffing, she brushes past him. The sound of his steps trailing behind her echoes in the empty space, and the buzzing flickers in intensity as he gets closer and farther with each step. 

“I came out here for peace and quiet. Seems like I won’t be getting any.”

“You’re not very good at clubbing, are you?”

God, he makes it easy for her to deflect. He’s a perfectly risky fantasy until he opens his mouth. 

“It’s not the-” Bracing against the brick wall, Julianna sighs. “Nevermind. It’s not worth it.”

They’re back closer to the exit sign. The “I” has gone out, it seems, so the sign only flashes EX T. The red cascades on one side of Julianna’s face, but fills Luke’s as he approaches and stands in front of her. “There’s that angelic superiority complex I was waiting for.”

In a disgusting way -- Julianna almost cries from the relief that he believes she is a full angel. 

“It’s not a superiority complex, it’s a moral compass,” she bites back with a breathy voice. The buzzing cannot seem to make up its mind as Luke rocks back and forth on his heels and the static pulls and pushes in sync with his movements. 

“Quite the weak moral compass to storm into an alleyway when someone else was present there first, and you don’t even remember their name.”

“You were leaving anyway, _ Luke _ . Remember the part where you ran into me?”

With a playful gasp, Luke bats his eyelashes. “She remembers me. I can’t believe the  _ perfect angel _ actually remembered my name. I feel  _ so _ special.”

She knows he’s mocking her, she knows he’s mocking her, but…  _ Perfect angel.  _

What she doesn’t know is if she’s ever been called a perfect angel before. 

At her stunned silence, Luke drops the act and rolls his eyes. He takes a couple steps towards her, simultaneously calming the pokes and raising her adrenaline, before she puts together that he’s reaching for the door handle to reenter the club. 

“By the way,” he speaks up again, hand still on the door, “I was leaving the alley to see who was sounding like they were on the verge of tears on the sidewalk.”

“... And you found me.”

“And I found _ you. _ ”

The two of them linger on each other. Julianna can’t seem to take her eyes off of his hesitating form, where she catches his eyes tracing her body just as she is doing with him. His eyes are hooded as they look at her like she’s this puzzle that materialized in front of him and demanded solving. 

Julianna doesn’t know what she is doing -- what either of them are doing. 

There’s a strand of her soul clawing from her body and tempting the both of them; her to reach out, him to meet her halfway. It’s a mistake. It’s dangerous. 

“Are you playing tonight?”

(It can’t be helped.)

Their eyes meet, and a shiver trembles delicately down Julianna’s spine. 

“Yeah, with some friends.” He pauses. “See you back in there?”

Julianna only hums a confirmation. “Break a leg.”

The smirk returns. Maybe Julianna allows herself to indulge in how attractive it is, and how thrilling it is for it to be directed at her, but no one is a witness to it. 

“Enjoy the show, Julie.”

In a flash, he’s through the door and back in the club. And Julie is alone, with a soft red light across her face, with the buzzing slowly amping back up to full force. 

With a groan, she heaves off of the unforgiving brick and painfully stumbles her way back into the club through the front door, hoping that maybe she can forget about the torment her head is currently enduring when Luke gets onstage and plays. 

Unfortunately, she seems to stumble into chaos. 

The first thing she notes is Alex and the questionable demon girl are still at the bar talking like old friends; and Alex is sitting in Nicholas’ old seat. Nicholas is nowhere within Julianna’s line of sight, and Flynn and William are cornered inside of the booth. William is sporting the same heartaching look he wore earlier, and Flynn kindly rubs his arm. 

“Julianna! There you are! I’ve been looking for you!”

Nicholas appears almost out of thin air beside her. He’s a little closer than she wants him to be, and his dilated pupils are a clue that he’s had more than just water -- even though it’s against conduct. 

“Nicholas,” Julianna takes a step back, “have you… What are you doing? What did you drink?”

He giggles. “Only water, silly! What are you talking about? I’m just excited to be here with my  _ friends!”  _ In a flash, he is throwing his left arm around her and tugging her into his side. His touch is abrasive and blunt, and in no way how Julianna wants to be handled, ever. “Except for Alexander. He’s been talking to Carrie all night -- but she liked me! And he doesn’t even like girls, so why would he want to talk to her? Un-fucking-believable. Some friend he is!”

Nicholas is officially, absolutely out of it. There’s a definite water bottle in his hand, and he has always been so good that she can’t imagine how he could suddenly be drunk and changing on a dime-

And then she remembers. The girl,  _ Carrie _ , who William insisted was a demon. 

Oh no. 

Julianna wants to launch into immediate action, she wants to tell Nicholas that they are going home and that she’ll go get Flynn and William and Alexander, but applause interrupt her and her attention is drawn to the captivating demon with familiar green eyes who is climbing the stage with his friends -- but his gaze is scanning the audience intently, looking for one thing. 

When his pupils dilate in her direction, she realizes she was the target. 

In that brief moment, as he sends her a smile, she feels a smile of her own creeping across her face like he telepathically persuaded her to do so. Julianna feels the urge to just keep Nicholas at her side for the next few minutes so that she can swim in the ocean of Luke’s voice, but the blonde is practically fizzling with rebellious energy, and the sense of obligation rooted deep in her title and identity kicks in. 

She can’t help but send an apologetic look to Luke before turning to Nicholas and grabbing his arms. 

“I’m going to bring you to Flynn and William, okay? And then I’m going to get Alexander, and we’ll all  _ go home _ .”

“No, I wanna go say goodbye to Carrie!”

Before the pureblood angel can whirl around and wander towards the bar, Julianna positions herself behind him with a huff and physically shoves him towards the table where the rest of their friend group is sitting. 

Luke’s voice follows her in the background. She wishes she could stand in it a little longer. 

“We gotta go home, Nicholas,” she grunts in his ear. “You can see Carrie another night.”

“But-”

A fierce push from behind, from Julianna, cuts him off. As Luke and two of his friends break out into a long-winded series of guitar and bass solos, and her headache echoes the beat of the music, they finally reach the small table, and Flynn and William. 

“We have to go home,” Julianna insists upon arrival. She shares an urgent stare with William and Flynn, nodding her head to a delirious Nicholas who is still squirming next to her. “I think everyone’s had a long night. I’m going to go get Alexander, can you guys get Nicholas outside?”

“Why don’t I get Alexander?” William almost jumps out of his seat, speaking loudly over Luke’s voice. The contrast makes her head hurt. 

She knows he wants to go rescue his boyfriend, but… 

Isn’t the mix a little better equipped for this? Even though, according to Luke at least, the demons can’t even tell that they share similar blood?

She never thought that she would suddenly be using her derogatory title as a bargaining chip to interact with a demon. Is this a weird side effect of her conversations with Luke? Is it her entering a radical phase of exploring her demonic half?

Is it her, realizing her full potential, like her father said?

Shaking her head, Julianna nudges Nicholas towards William. “You’d be best handing this one. I can handle Alexander. Just meet me outside.”   
  
“Are you sure, Julianna?” A soft hand wraps around her wrist -- Flynn. “You’re okay?”

Nodding, Julianna gently retracts her appendage from her friend’s grip. “I’ll be alright.”

As she walks away, her head throbs, and the music blasts around her. It sounds as though Luke and his friends are almost done with their song, and the quickening tempo of their song propels Julianna to finish her journey over to Alexander and Carrie.

The pain in her head makes her more insistent to end the festivities and get everybody home. 

“Alexander!” She cheers out, voice high as her left arm falls over his shoulders. “I’m so sorry to kill your fun, but I have a raging headache and it looks like Nicholas had a little too much fun, so we’re heading out. Are you good to go?”

Disappointed, the blonde looks between her and Carrie. “Aw, really? God, Carrie and I really almost talked all night.”

“Your friend is a riot,” the demon, Carrie, inserts herself into the conversation. There’s a glint in her eye that Julianna recognizes from Luke, only it strikes her in a different way. No matter what, it’s another clue that the young woman is a demon. “I’m so sorry to take him away from you for so long. And I’m sorry if I upset your little friend, too, I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”

She clearly sounds like she doesn’t care, and she knows Julianna can hear it. But that’s alright.

Julianna forces a sickeningly sweet smile. “He’s fine. Had a great night. But seriously, Alex, I think we need to go. William and Flynn are bringing Nicholas outside-”

_ “Carrie!” _

They don’t have to wonder who the voice was for long -- because Julianna turns around to see Nicholas peeling away from his guards and almost tripping over his own feet to reach the three of them. Mortified, Julianna removes herself from Alexander and tries to push Nicholas away.

“Nic-”

“Carrie! Wanna dance? Let’s go dancing, I feel  _ fantastic!” _

Julianna is reminded of everything bad she’s been told to believe about demons when she glances at Carrie, who looks on the embarrassing display with mirth in her eyes. She doesn’t care a bit about the boy who she drugged, and is only drawing joy from his response to the intoxication. 

“Nicholas, go outside with Flynn and William, please-”

Alexander speaks over. “Dude, go walk it off! Take a deep breath! We’re going home-”

“Get off of me, Julianna!” Nicholas strikes Julianna with a particularly rougher shove, but it doesn’t jostle her as much as she expected. Just as hard she pushes back, but he looks ready for a fight as Alexander tries to worm his way between them. “I just wanna dance with-”

The combat between her and Nicholas, and then Nicholas and Alexander, becomes too much to manage. Another harsh push from Niicholas, who is beginning to lash out in a way that raises fear in Julianna, sends Alexander backwards -- and, by consequence, into Julianna. 

She braces for the dirty bar floor. 

She even contemplates bringing out her wings to help her balance. 

But the moment never comes. 

Because for the second time that night, she finds her headache willingly dissipating, and a solid body receiving the brunt of her impact. Callused hands grace her upper arms, keeping her close and pain-free. 

Julianna, willingly, stays. 

“Everything alright over here?” Luke asks behind her. She dares to sneak a glance up at him, and is taken aback by the range displayed in his eyes -- disdain in Nicholas’ direction, curiosity in Alexander’s direction, aggravation in Carrie's direction.

Affection in her direction. 

Carrie looks bothered by his interjection at her entertainment, and Nicholas is tensing at the sight of a taller, clearly stronger guy glowering at him. A couple of guys -- the guys who were on stage with Luke, one with soft black hair and blue eyes, the other with toned skin and brown eyes -- wander over to where Carrie is sitting, and glance between her and Luke with wonder. 

“We were just having some fun, Luke,” Carrie groans into her martini glass. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Luke’s thumbs brush Julianna’s shoulders. Any pain once felt in her head is quickly sent down to her somersaulting stomach. 

She prays nobody notices. 

“Well, it doesn’t look like anyone else was. In fact, I believe I heard this one-” Julianna catches him nodding down to her, “saying that she and her friends were going home.”

“It’s not my fault that one of them wanted to stick around a little more.”

Behind her, Luke tenses. She knows that he can’t say it out loud out of blatant risk of exposing his identity to a crew of angels and any mortals within earshot, but she can tell they are having their own argument solely through eye contact. She doesn’t make any move to leave his touch; however, her friends are staring suspiciously at the boy behind her. 

Once Carrie relents her unspoken argument with Luke, and raises her martini glass to her lips with a cough, Nicholas’ muscles visibly relax as he falls into a sobering haze. Luckily, Alexander is there to catch him as his knees buckle-

And Julianna takes the chance to support the other side of her friend, escaping the transfixing touch of the demon. 

“Ow,” Nicholas groans as they turn him around and help him towards the door; Flynn and William in tow. “My head hurts.”

Uncontrollably, Julianna whips her head back and locks eyes with Luke one last time. It isn’t his touch, but the figurative contact in itself brings a fraction of comfort to the prickling at her ears. 

“Mine does, too.”

\--

The next morning, the After Realm seems to have descended into righteous madness, for a reason that Julianna doesn’t know until her father sits her down and breaks the news to her. He seems so hesitant, taking her hands in his and trying to soften her with the information that “as she grows up, many of her friends will make bad decisions and find themselves in this position-”

She tells him to get to the point. She doesn’t need it sugarcoated. 

With another deep breath, he utters a line of information that Julianna never expected to hear -- not ever, even in a million years.

Alexander, angel of Mercy, has fallen. 


	2. killing me slow // devils roll the dice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alexander is gone, and julianna and flynn have a lot to do to pick up the pieces.

**killing me slow, out the window (i’m always waiting for you to be waiting below)**

Immediately after Alexander’s fall, Julianna showered her father with questions. 

_ On what grounds? _ Undisclosed.

_ Who told? _ They won’t say. 

_ Did they say anything about anyone else? _ No. Just Alexander.

Intense panic sets in at the fact that it was just Alexander who was reported. The only thing that Julianna can think of is the fact that he was chatting the night away with a demon, but Nicholas talked to Carrie too, and she did as well. 

Does this put her in danger? The council would not hesitate to exile the mix that had been lurking in their heavens and threatening their kind since she was an infant. It is crucial, painfully crucial, that she try to work out who betrayed Alexander, and why. 

First and foremost, however, Flynn and Julianna decide they should check on William. 

“He might have done it,” Flynn snaps, strutting next to Julianna on the way to William and Alexander’s shared house. “We need to see if he plans on snitching on you, or Nicholas, or anyone.”

William’s unease over Alexander choosing a random demon over him that night is cause for concern. But deep down, Julianna’s heart cracks at the thought of William being the culprit. It’s easy to think, too; only because he has such a clear reason for solely reporting Alexander and not Julianna nor Nicholas. 

_ But please _ , she prays to the Elders as her and Flynn approach the front door of the home.  _ Don’t let it be William _ . 

Within five minutes of being in his house, Flynn and Julianna know. 

It’s not William. It is definitely, one hundred percent, not William.

They know as soon as they find him curled up in the bed that he used to lay next to his boyfriend in, seemingly unmoving for the last 24 hours. He is surrounded by bags of chips and tissues and is lying in a catatonic state, oozing pain and sorrow from every pore. The air in the room is thick and has not been circulated; smelling of salt and stilled time. 

William barely even speaks to them. 

“Is he really gone?” He rasps, curling a blanket in the fist in front of his mouth. Fresh tears, despite his dehydration, rise in his eyes. “He’s- You can’t find him? He’s gone?”

Neither Julianna nor Flynn can verbalize the ugly truth. They settle for a sullen nod. 

The two girls barely manage ten full minutes with William before it sinks in that there is nothing that they can do for him, in that moment, besides fill his water bottle and run their hands over his hair -- an action which he quickly cuts off. It reminds him of Alexander. 

They inform him that they’ll return the next day as they are on their way out of the door. Once their toes touch the pavement, Julianna is quick to jump to the logical conclusion after what the two of them just witnessed. “So. It was Nicholas.”

“Yeah.”

“But why?”

After a beat in which the only sound made between them was their shoes against the sidewalk, Flynn speaks. “We don’t know yet. But if we go and report him for talking to Carrie that night… He can implicate all of us. We’ll all fall- Or, uh, whatever happens to you.”

Julianna’s always tried to avoid thinking about what her fall would feel like. Would she join the demon realm among the rest of the purebloods and After-Realm rejects, or would they just kill her on the spot? What’s the use in sending someone who is already half-demon down to the Underworld? 

But still. She doesn’t know. There are a lot of things she doesn’t know, unfortunately; and the list keeps building. Her headaches, her fall… What Nicholas knows and is trying to hold against them. 

Her mind turns to Luke, as it often does. 

Does Nicholas know? Has he seen something? Or is this all a twisted, demonic side-effect of what Carrie slipped him, amplified by jealousy of Alexander and anxiety that they would report him instead? 

Until Nicholas tells her himself that he knows about Luke, she is choosing to believe the other alternative. 

However, even if he doesn’t know about Luke, Julianna feels the subconscious message that his actions send deep down in the core of her soul. 

_ Tread carefully.  _

\--

No one goes to the mortal realm for a while. Julianna doesn’t know how long they stay put -- everyone seems to have lost track of time. 

The only person who she thinks has been going is Nicholas, and maybe some of his friends; but she’s tried to avoid him at every advance he makes. 

(Which is too many.)

Julianna wonders, excessively when Nicholas approaches her, if Luke has noticed her lengthy absence from  _ The Orpheum _ . She thinks about red lights and green eyes and if she squeezes her eyes closed tight enough, the calloused fingers that rested on her shoulders to catch her every time she falls into him. 

What she wouldn’t give to throw herself into him one more time. 

_ It’s so ridiculous _ , she thinks to herself every time Luke’s face drops into her head uninvited. She’s met this guy barely a handful of times. But every time she has, he’s simultaneously proved to meet the expectations of his identity and break every single stereotype down. 

He’s rugged; he’s soft. He’s snarky; he’s generous. He’s argumentative; he’s caring. 

He is nowhere near perfect, but in the memories and moments that Julianna’s consciousness clings to, he is what she craves. And when she looks out of her bedroom window on the starriest of nights, she will imagine that she’s not in the clouds or has tattered wings or mixed blood. 

She closes her eyes, and thinks that she’s human, and that Luke will be right below the window to see her.  _ Just to see her. _

Infatuation is not supported in the After Realm -- but she doesn’t think she has control over it at this point. Her mind has made itself up. These little fantasies carry her through the grief of losing Alexander, the heartache of watching William fall apart and put himself together, her rage towards Nicholas, and just about every other feature of the After Realm that’s starting to make the Underworld sound like a luxury vacation. 

William is able to make it out of his bed and to the kitchen now. He is able to hold longer conversations with Flynn and Julianna, and drink gallons of water to fuel the tears that he continues to cry at night. 

He manages to find a way to add tone to his voice again, which is a good sign. 

It’s a warm Thursday afternoon, and the girls have brought him sandwiches and drinks, when he asks them to do him a favor. 

“Go to  _ The Orpheum _ tomorrow night.”

Julianna’s chewing slows to a stop; Flynn lowers the half of her sandwich that was in the process of being raised to her lips. “Excuse me?”

“I want you guys to go to the Orpheum tomorrow night,” William repeats. “Don’t tell Nicholas. Don’t invite him. Just the two of you. Find Alexander.”

Suddenly, what started as a few innocent trips to a club has spiraled into a conduct-breaching mission; a secret shared with a small group of teenage angels who are just trying to protect themselves and each other. 

Most angels learn by adulthood that you can’t have it both ways. 

“William,” Julianna begins after swallowing, “are you sure you want this? You want us to see how he’s doing?”

The angel of Charity nods his head. “Please. Make sure he’s okay. And happy. And… Tell him, obviously, that I love him.”

William is so determined; his gaze fixed on the two girls in front of him who share worried expressions. The way that he added the “tell him that I love him” as an afterthought gives Julianna pause -- the priority was to make sure he was okay. And happy. 

There are implications of that that she is too tired to overthink about right now. 

A little tug in the back of her mind dreams of a love like Alexander and William’s that can thrive and tether two people together, beyond the laws of the realms and identities and titles. They hold onto their love for one another against all odds, because they were made to. Julianna and Flynn think they’re soulmates; the same soul split in two and recycled through angelic deities for ages. 

That’s not an actual working operation in the After Realm -- but they insist that there were even greater forces at work. 

Flynn breaks the silence first, providing William with the same answer that Julianna would have.

Fuck the rules. William is their best friend, Alexander is their best friend, and they need to do this. 

Because they know that William would be shattered if he went himself and found something that he didn’t want to see. 

“We’ll do it. Tomorrow night, you said?”

\--

It feels weird being in the mortal world after so much time away. There’s a weight lifted off of Julianna’s back at the absence of her wings at her sides, and the glow that she typically feels emanating from her skin is dimmed. 

And, of course, her head feels like the static is making her brain expand inside of her skull to the point of bursting. 

Something itches right under her skin insisting that Luke is probably there. But that isn’t her focus tonight -- Alexander is. 

(She has no idea that those two things are about to be intertwined.)

Her and Flynn forego getting water in favor of searching obnoxiously through the crowds on their tiptoes to find the tall head of blonde hair. Humans push around them with curious looks, because they do look like absolute lost fools, but their attention isn’t on those stupid people. 

They just need to find Alexander. And Julianna is praying for a sign, from anything or anyone -- preferably Luke -- that he was there and safe so they could bring him to they alley and talk-

“Back by popular demand,” the MC comes over the sound system, “the band built right here in  _ The Orpheum _ with some of our favorite regulars and talented newcomers,  _ Sunset Curve _ !”   
  


Julianna’s mind does the calculations pretty quickly. 

_ Luke is often introduced as an  _ Orpheum _ regular, and he used to perform with his friends, and now there’s newcomers, but that means- It couldn’t be- _

Three boys with dark hair, and one familiar blonde, take their places on stage. 

Too much happens at once.

Flynn’s fingernails are digging into Julianna’s arm at the sight of their fallen friend, and Alexander is clearly scanning the crowd, but Luke finds them first and he’s winking at Julianna with a comforting smile and it takes her a moment to process. 

_ Luke found Alexander.  _

The blinding lights flash around and Julianna’s head vibrates with extreme discomfort and her heart is engulfed in flames -- tears are rising in her eyes for no reason, and for a thousand reasons all at once. 

_ Luke found Alexander.  _

The gesture is so unselfish and giving and everything that Julianna was told an angel should be, and a demon is not. The urge to touch him and fill the moments they’ve missed in the time that she has been gone crashes onto her like a wave. 

Luke, who is still staring at her, rolls his lips together at her frozen expression. A small nod towards the back door -- the one that leads to their usual meeting spot -- is all that she needs to know they’ll get the chance to talk to Alexander.

Her lips barely move, but she hopes that Luke sees it when she mouths  _ thank you. _

“He’s fine,” Julianna assures Flynn, prying the angel of Faith’s nails from her skin. “We’re gonna see him after the show.”   
  


“What? How do you know?” The boys start playing, and it’s loud; and both of the girls have their attention stolen by Alexander’s carefree expression and freedom in movement as he beats the drums. 

She had seen the boy happy, but… He looks as if being released from the gates released him from prison, and he’s enjoying his liberation to the fullest.

A choked sigh escapes her lips as she looks at the band with watery eyes.

“Julianna, how do you know? What do you mean we’re meeting him after?”

The mix’s eyes are stuck on the stage. Between Luke’s generosity and Alexander living the life she has always thought about, she’s panicking quite a bit. The tears in her eyes haven’t dried. 

With a pat on Flynn’s shoulder, Julianna allows herself to smile at the scene in front of her. Alexander is safe. Luke found him. He’s in a band, for crying out loud -- he doesn’t look like he’s suffering. 

(Only when he scans the crowd over and over, pausing on Julianna and Flynn -- clearly expecting William to pop up any second, only for him not to.)

“Just trust me,” she tells her best friend. “I’ve got an in.”

Flynn’s braids slap against Julianna’s arm as she whips her head to gawk at Julianna. An “in” means a relationship with a demon, which is a line that the old Julianna would have never considered crossing in order to keep her angelic side prominent to the Council. 

It’s so unlike her, but simultaneously, everyone should have seen it coming.

All it took was the right demon.

There’s a lot she clearly has to explain to Flynn about her interactions with Luke, and how they met, and now he’s saved their best friend from whatever brooding crowds that the Underworld has to offer -- but that will have to wait for when her head hurts less, and said demon isn’t singing a haunting song with his low, rasping voice. 

With Flynn’s hand still wound against her arm, the two girls stand idly as the concert continues. Alexander is banging against the drums with precision and skill that almost completely blows Julianna away. She knew that Alexander was musical, but… 

Everything about this is new, different,  _ changed _ . 

If Julianna didn’t have nineteen years of internalized discrimination and shame under her belt, she would allow herself to be vulnerable enough to believe that being a demon would be okay. 

But it’s not as simple as black versus white. Her wings are the physical embodiment of that. 

However, her wings aren’t out right now. 

So if she sways a little to the music, and bops her head, and mouths the final chorus right back at Luke as he gives it everything he has, then let her. The grey area is nonexistent; the black and white cannot touch them now. 

Flynn’s hand stays firm around her arm, but the angel says nothing. 

They’ve already been pushed into the deep end -- they may as well try to stay above water.

\--

The static hasn’t faded by the end of the set. They play a few songs this time instead of Luke’s occasional one-and-done, which was enjoyable despite the fact that it prolonged the pressure in against her head and the panic radiating off of Flynn’s skin. 

When the final note of the last song dies on Luke’s tongue, the four boys on stage rise to take their bows as the audience goes ballistic over them. Shaking hands reach out to Luke. 

He smirks down at them, locks eyes with Julianna with his hands firmly on his guitar, and nods towards the back door once more. 

The fingernails are back in her bicep. “The  _ singer? _ Juli-”

“Before you finish that sentence,” she interrupts her best friend, “I’m 99% sure that he’s the one who found Alexander for us. So don’t judge him yet.”

The band wanders off of the small stage and  _ goodness, _ her head hurts. 

“Let’s go,” Julianna pulls her arm with Flynn’s attached hand in the direction of the main entrance. “Luke’s gonna bring him to the alley.”

_ “Luke? Alley?  _ Julianna, how much have you-”

In an effort to end the interrogation, Julianna throws herself into the push-open door with a little more weight than necessary -- but the sound is loud enough to cut Flynn off. 

Fresh air overwhelms their faces and blows gently through their hair, and it would be a perfectly serene moment if there wasn’t an attention-seeking popping at Julianna’s ears and the promise of their best friend just around the corner. 

“They’re this way,” she mumbles, Flynn trailing behind her. There’s a small part of her that’s eager to see Luke just so her head stops hurting -- because it would mean he’s touching her again. 

“When we get home you have a lot to explain to me.” 

The girls round the corner, and the familiar illumination from the red exit sign is painted across the alleyway, and dying street lights brighten up the darker corners that the red does not reach. Between the two long brick walls, there is an unmoving quiet -- the boys aren’t there yet.

Julianna draws Flynn closer to the brick wall next to the back exit of the club. “Julianna, are you sure that-”

A boisterous sound ricochets off of the cement as the heavy door swings open, and the four boys that make up Sunset Curve are tumbling through -- Alexander front and center. 

Neither Julianna nor Flynn hesitate in launching themselves at him; their tiptoes holding them up high enough to properly fasten their arms around him. He reciprocates the hug with matched urgency.

The headache hasn’t faded, but Julianna’s tears are back. “We miss you so much,” she cries into her friend’s ear. “Are you okay? Are you- Are you comfortable? Safe? Where-”

With a fleeting squeeze, Alexander minorly retracts from their embrace. “I’m fine, you guys. I’m… I’m alright. But one question at a time, please. This is the first time I’m seeing you in a long time and I’m trying not to cry.”

At the thought of crying, tears resume their streaming down Flynn and Julianna’s faces as they bury themselves back into Alexander’s shirt. Calmingly, he rubs their backs, and Julianna takes a handful of deep breaths before feeling comfortable enough with pulling away and dragging her gaze along the four boys in front of her; focusing back in on the blonde after lingering on Luke. Flynn keeps her right arm snug around his waist.

“Where are you living?”

Alexander gestures to his bandmates. “With the guys.”

Another tear blinks out of Julianna’s eyes.  _ How much has Luke done to help him? _ _   
  
_

“And… Is everything okay… There?”

“Julianna, it’s not the hell everyone makes it out to be.”

Flynn jumps in. “Who’s to say?”

“It’s a lot like the After Realm,” he answers for her. “They just… Preach different values. I promise you it’s great down there.”

Flynn gives Julianna a long, hard look:  _ Don’t even think about it.  _

Even as supportive as Flynn is sometimes, and despite the effort she makes to relieve Julianna of her mixed-blood insecurities, she still has her own prejudices. And, just like most of the fragile-minded angels in the After Realm, shares the fear that one day Julianna will walk out of the gates and never return. 

Forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the gaze of her best friend, she takes a longer moment to look at the three demons off to Alexander’s right side. The bass player is wringing his hands together as he shifts his eyes, the olive-skinned one throws her a two-finger wave, and Luke… 

Luke. 

They’ve only spoken a few times. 

But why does it feel like they’re old friends? Like he is a security blanket in an unfamiliar world?

His mouth curls into a hopeful smile as he insistently shoves his hands into his pockets -- why, she doesn’t know. Her head hurts, but not as much. 

In a seedy alleyway behind a haven for the mythological, cold air blows through four demons, an angel, and a girl who walks the fine line. One of the demons in front of her is an angel who crossed that line, and another is tempting her to cross it. 

She needs to confront that crossing. But before she can, the fallen angel jumps in with the question he’s been itching to vocalize. “How’s William?”   
  
Flynn swoops in with the most honest answer she can decide on. “He’s fine.”

“Fine means bad, Flynn.”

“He misses you,” Julianna jumps in, still looking at Luke. “He misses you a lot.”

She’s saying it to Alexander, but she’s saying it to Luke -- she missed him. Their strange, tense talks and the intoxicating relief of her headaches fizzling out. 

“He wanted us to make sure you were okay,” she continues, “and happy. He wanted us to tell you he loves you.”

Without hesitation, Alexander utters the eleven letters. “I love him too.”

“We know.”

“And I’m okay,” he progresses, “I mean… I hate it here without him. And I miss him every day. But because of the guys, I’m alright.”

How Julianna wants so badly to cry. Her best friend, in front of her, proclaiming that despite the loss of the love of his life he has already found a new family with new people to pick up the pieces. 

Does he love them more? What makes them better?

Should she throw it all away and join them?

Her teary eyes once again follow towards the three boys. The two that she is unfamiliar with awkwardly introduce themselves to her and Flynn -- they shake Julianna’s hand, but Flynn denies their offer -- before the bassist, Reggie, kindly informs them that him and Bobby are willing to answer any other questions they have about Alex or his life in the Underworld. 

(For the love of the Powers That Be, even after a few minutes of knowing them, Julianna knows she likes them better than the angels up in the After Realm.) 

Luke watches intently as Julianna smiles through her interactions with his friends. As her hand separates from Bobby’s, she meets his familiar green eyes, and the cramp in a low region of her heart is likely induced by him. 

Her arms, now lead, urge her to cue them towards Luke. But everyone is watching. 

Flynn, playing Devil’s Advocate -- almost literally -- pipes up and breaks the tension. “Actually, Reggie, I would really appreciate it if you boys could tell me a little more. William’s going to want every detail.”

As she leads the boys farther down the alley, away from the door, she sends Julianna a glare to remind her what she’s doing. What they’re  _ both _ doing. The amount of faith being bestowed upon the mix to not mess this up.

A little nod, slightly fearful, is how Julianna responds. She carefully watches their retreating figures before realizing that Luke is approaching. 

Before Julianna can say any of the million thank-you’s and what-does-this-mean’s she has scripted, the demon beats her to the punch. “So…  _ Julianna.” _

“... What?”

“Your- Uh, I don’t know what you call them. Your angel name. You told me your name was Julie.”

His feet kick insecurely into the gravel below him, despite the confident way he’s leaning towards her and quirking his lips into a smile. She almost resents the fact that Alexander said her name -- does it tarnish the facade? ‘

She knows Luke sees her as an angel, but… 

At least with him, she had a little more control over her identity. 

“Didn’t you hear it last time? Like… When my friend pushed me. Didn’t he say my name then?”

“He was slurring his words. And I was a little distracted watching you fall to pay attention to what he called you.”

Falling back into a pillow of silence, Julianna nods. 

The soles of his shoes scrape against the cement again. A few rocks roll towards her. 

And, suddenly, she snaps. 

“I don’t know what happened,” her monologue starts, as do her tears, “but I know, I know you had something to do with it, and- You helped him. You helped him, and I don’t know why, but we’ve spent all this time thinking about him and grieving him and the Council is really not big on us coming down here so much after his fall and I’ve missed it, so much, I missed you, and I don’t know how to thank you for helping him. I really don’t.” As the tears continue to fall, and Luke steps towards her with concern, her cries interrupt her sentences. “Tha- Thank you. S- S- So much. Thank you.”

He’s so close to her, right in front of her, that the EXIT sign creates a shadow over his face and a red halo behind his head. 

_ “Julie…”  _

Luke’s voice is soft, like cotton, and it sounds more like he wants to get her to stop crying than anything else. And she wants to thank him again for calling her “Julie” and helping her keep this crumb of an identity that she has with him and nobody else, and she wants the singular pops next to her ears to go away, so she does the only reasonable thing she can do to show her appreciation in a way that is easier than words. 

That’s how she finds herself lifting off of her feet and throwing her arms around his shoulders and neck; tugging him into her in the way she’s been aching for, and soothing the pain in her skull how nobody else can. 

Luke hesitates for a moment before his strong grasp is felt around her waist, pressing her towards him fully and completely. She can feel how his chin hooks over her shoulder and his face turns into her wild hair -- where anyone would find it chaotic or ticklish, he leans into it like it is his last chance. 

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he murmurs, sounding dazed. “It was one of the easiest decisions I’ve ever made. I’m just happy it made you happy.”

As his thumbs stroke her sides with care, Julianna forces herself on her toes, higher. She wants to be closer. She doesn’t want it to end. 

The  _ you barely know me but you make me so happy  _ line is propped on the tip of her tongue. 

She could say it. 

But the hug is already filling her high-risk quota for the next week. 

Better to enjoy it while she has it, memorize it, and dream of it when she can’t have it anymore.

\--

**devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes (it’s new - the shape of your body)**

Julianna should have expected it from William. His questioning, his eagerness to know every detail of Alexander’s -- or, Alex’s, as he prefers to be called now -- new life, and his quickening recovery… 

All signs pointed to his idea. 

(She just didn’t want to think about it.)

“What would you think if I walked out of the gates?” 

(There it is.)

Flynn isn’t at his house with her today, something about helping her mom with the her latest mortal assignment. Of course William would take the opportunity to ask Julianna, the one who is half-demon, the one who probably wouldn’t judge, what she would think if he decided to leave. 

“Quite the loaded question to ask the mix, huh?”

She can’t help the fact that his timing, or delivery, or both, strike her unusually hard. It’s the result of a toxic blend of the shame her identity has brought her, and the thin ice she’s been walking in each trip to the mortal realm with every touch shared between her and Luke. 

She just can’t help but feel like he’s only asking her because she will encourage it. And that’s the bit that hurts the most. 

William’s eyebrows tuck together as he frowns. “What?”

Reaching for more of his laundry to fold, Julianna avoids her friend’s eyes. “You think that my demonic side is going to kick in and totally encourage you to voluntarily fall. Flynn would try and talk you out of it, and none of us are talking to Nicholas, and obviously your uncle would lock you up forever if he knew you were considering it. I’m your best chance at feeling comfortable in your choice because you don’t know if you can make it yourself.”

“You know what? Yeah. That _ is _ why I’m asking you. Because I need to talk to someone who might feel like they’re going insane, just like me.”

_ “Going insane?” _

“Julianna, c’mon,” he begs her, “you’ve talked to demons. Alexander even told you how great everything was, and there has to be a part of you that thinks about it!”

Oh, how  _ dare _ he. 

With a particularly aggressive flinging of his laundry back onto his bed, Julianna whirls on him; venom ready to be spit. “Do you want to know why I’m going insane? Because I have been raised 19 years to carry guilt and shame and horror over an identity, over a bloodline, that _ I couldn’t control! _

I’m not an angel of Faith or Mercy or Charity because I am the angel of demons. I’m the mix that Flynn’s parents didn’t want her to hang out with for the longest time, who just wants to be an angel, but also feels like I can’t be an angel because if I’m only an angel then I can’t be myself. I’m  _ nothing.” _

It isn’t on her conscious level of awareness that there are hot tears streaming down her face until William is urging a tissue in front of her face as she gasps for air from her rant. 

She didn’t mean to lose control like this, but it’s becoming harder and harder not to be open about her fury. The more she learns about the other half of her identity, the more frustrating it becomes to learn that she’s been taught that half of her is pure evil when really she is just half of something that the other half doesn’t like. 

Her trauma and self-hatred was undeserved. 

“Julianna,” her friend starts, resting a soft hand on her shoulder, “I am so sorry. I did not realize this has been affecting you for so long.”

“Because it’s never affected you,” she spits, but it carries less aggression. She’s already tired. All of her energy went into that monologue that revealed more than she ever intended. 

But thankfully, William seems to be following along and learning as he goes. “No, no it hasn’t. And I’m sorry I didn’t think about this before. I- I’ve never really considered what goes on in your head, if there’s weird demon stuff already there or if there’s that weird nature-versus-nurture thing, and… Yeah. I’m sorry.”

The hand on her shoulder, still soothing and apologetic, feels like an invitation for more. Spinning to her side, Julianna throws her arms around William -- grateful for his empathy and understanding, sorry that he is without Alexander, and wanting him to know as much.

“I’m sorry he’s gone,” she whispers to him as his arms circle her waist. 

“Me too.”

A beat passes. 

“If you want to go, then go.” Her voice breaks at the final word. “I mean, you’re only asking me because you want encouragement, not doubt. If you were hesitant then you would go to Flynn. But you want someone to tell you it’s the right choice.”

William gulps against her shoulder. “Is it?”

“If it’s what you want, then no one should be able to tell you it’s wrong.” 

Her friend only nods, but neither of them let go. 

And as the two lost souls hold each other to try and shelter the storm, Julianna wishes she wasn’t so dense and could just take her own fucking advice for once.

\--

Flynn and Julianna begin to frequent The Orpheum for multiple reasons. 

Well, Julianna has multiple reasons. Flynn just wants to catch up with Alex -- Julianna wants to do the same, and spend a few minutes with Luke. 

(Yes, she does try to take her own advice. It doesn’t hurt either, especially when her headaches are only eased with his touch and his touch alone.)

((But she doesn’t tell him about that.))

The two of them continue to meet in the alleyway after his sets -- the rest of Sunset Curve chatting it up with Flynn at the bar or playing pool and placing random ridiculous bets in the back of the club. While they keep themselves busy, Julianna gets to run her fingers along Luke’s palms and talk to him, really talk to him. 

“How long have you played music?” 

They’re sitting in the alleyway now instead of standing, and Julianna’s knees are pressed into his leg -- barely touching, but it’s enough to keep her painless. Luke keeps leaning into her, and looking at her with a special glimmer in his eye; one that she doesn’t know the meaning of, or how many girls he’s used it on.

“Since I was a kid,” he tells her, smirking. “My parents hate it, actually, which is why I play up here all the time.”

“Really? They aren’t, like, totally _ ‘you can do whatever you want?’ _ ”

The guitarist shakes his head with a laugh. “Even Underworld parents have their rules.”

The news surprises her. Yet another fragmented piece of her miseducation. 

“Do you like music?” He asks her, drawing her out of her rabbit-hole of everything else that she’s been taught that could be wrong. “You seem to have a good time during our sets. You’re a good dancer, too -- do you play anything, or sing, or-”

She wishes. But she doesn’t. She sings a little, to her father or to Flynn if they ask, or to herself when she is alone. But she’s never tried to play an instrument or take things any farther. 

“I mean… Not really,” she shrugs, “I sing a little, but that’s it.”

“Anything you can sing for me now?”

One of his hands, that she’s so used to watching grasp a guitar with confidence, is inching across his lap and towards her hands that are stacked on top of each other on her knee. Julianna is not stupid enough to be unaware of what he wants to do -- but she might be stupid enough to let him do it. 

A little taken aback by his request and overly focused on his hand, Julianna has to force herself to meet his eyes. “I mean- I don’t know that many songs-”

It isn’t a lie. In the After Realm, the only music is more instrumental than vocal, and anything else is music that angels bring up from the mortal realm -- which isn’t very common. 

In fact, the songs that she knows best are his. 

“You don’t have to sing,” he insists as a response to her apprehension. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, I just… We don’t have that much music, or music with lyrics, I guess. And I don’t know very much mortal music. I know your songs and that’s the extent of it.”

The tip of his index finger nudges hers. “You know our music?”

Nodding, “you guys are really good. Always stuck in my head when I go home. You’re my first real exposure to different music.”

Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she takes the jump; and links her right index finger around his prodding left one. Any and all sense of pain snapping at her ears has been replaced by the euphoric touch of this demon. 

(She can’t help but wonder if he has this effect on everybody.)

He looks as though he doesn’t quite know how to respond to such an honor she’s laid upon him, so she does the first thing she can think of to fill the silence over passing cars and the bass beat from inside the club: She shares her voice. 

“ _ Don’t look down, _ ” she begins, drawing out the proper notes. “ _ ‘Cause we’re still rising up right now. And even if we hit the ground, we’ll still fly; dreaming like we’ll live forever, but living like it’s now or never.” _

(Haha. Hitting the ground. Like she would do if anyone decided to report her for linking fingers with a demon and serenading him with his own music. Fun thought to entertain.)

But even so, it’s one of her favorite songs she’s heard him sing. It was the first song they performed with Alex, and for that, it will always be special to her. 

More so now that she can see the way he’s gazing at her, awed, once she opens her eyes as her voice fades out. 

“If I didn’t know you were an angel before, I’d definitely know now,” he says, barely audible through how far his lips are stretched into a smile. “That- That’s better than how we do it. You have an amazing voice.”

His finger tugs a little on hers. Julianna willingly allows him to pull her hand towards his lap so that he can hold it fully and completely; warming up her skin against the cold night air. “Thank you,” she mumbles. She isn’t used to getting praised so heavily. She isn’t used to being allowed to be good at anything, to outshine the purebloods. 

Then again, Luke thinks she’s a pureblood.

(There’s a lot of things she isn’t planning on telling him.)

“Thank you for singing,” he retorts. “I feel honored to hear a voice like yours.”

He is so good at complimenting her that it hurts. Ridiculously, it is a part of what draws her to him -- there’s a sense of attention and respect that she doesn’t get from people very often. Is it so wrong for her to crave it once in a while?

“It’s no big deal… I’m just not used to singing for people.”   
  
“I’d think the After Realm would want a voice of an angel singing front and center.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue.  _ I’m not a full angel. _

Instead, she swallows it down, and shrugs. “Looks like we both had misconceptions about where we’re from.”

\--

After another twenty minutes of Luke’s thumb stroking her knuckles, the two of them go back into the club.

On their way out, they catch a glimpse of a familiar blonde angel in the back room, where the pool table is. 

His blue eyes catch on Julianna’s brown ones, and another silent treaty is signed. 

Nobody can utter a word. 

\--

A few days later, it’s official. Julianna’s the only one who got any sort of warning, but she doesn’t tell that to Flynn as they cry in each other’s arms-

William left the gates. 

He never told Julianna if he was going to go through with it, or when he was going to do it, so the abruptness hit her like a stinging slap across the face. He robbed them both of a proper goodbye -- but, in the long run, it might be better this way. 

Another person, another loved one,  _ gone _ . Julianna knew it was for the best, but… 

But what was stopping her from doing the same thing? Every day there was less and less she needed here. 

However, something always stopped her. The internalized inferiority she’s felt her whole life for being a mix, the thought of everyone saying this was expected from her from the start, her father’s own loss. The possibility of his disappointment and isolation among the other angels. Flynn. 

The nagging feeling that demons, at their core, were bad. And she could risk it all for Luke only for him to not care about her; and then, she would really have nothing. 

She really would be nothing. 

(Even if she already feels like nothing now.)

Her father tries to cheer her up and tell her that it’s okay, that this only proves that she is stronger than her friends, that the angel in her won out -- but every word out of his mouth is wrong. 

She won’t know what part of her wins until she actually starts doing her research. If there’s a history of mixes beyond what she has been told to her face, why her head hurts when she goes to the mortal realm unless she is touching Luke, and if there is a special place for mixed deities to go when they violate the rules of their realm. 

Maybe her dad was right about one thing: She is strong.

Julianna is strong, and she knows more now, and she’s going to keep finding out what she can. Her next stop: The archives. 

And afterwards, she might even go and see Luke. Because she is determined to control what she wants and what she's doing -- and everyone else has lost the power to keep that from her. 


	3. it's blue // it's a cruel summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> julianna finds more questions than answers -- both from a research trip to the archives, and from luke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyeeeee here we go again!!! i think yall will like this chapter :)

_**It’s blue - the feeling i’ve got** _

The archives are dusty. The Council keeps them tucked away in the library, telling the angels that they don’t need to really see them because they will explain any questions asked -- but Julianna has been finding out that there have been too many lies spread around. 

After an awkward talk with the Guardian that more resembled an interrogation than a discussion, the angel reluctantly led Julianna back to where the older documents and textbooks were stored. The Guardian attempts to judgmentally hover near the exit door so that they can monitor the mix’s research, but-

“I’m sorry, but my father told me I would be given privacy while I did my research?”

With a shifty gaze, they scatter; and Julianna is left sitting alone in a room packed with documents and she doesn’t even know where to begin. 

Her first idea is to just… Start with anything that pertains to the mixed population. Luckily, she doesn’t have to start sifting through each paper -- she just has to extend her hands, focus on the word “mix,” and wait for the any document that contains the keyword to glow golden in reflection to her hands. 

Slowly, she reaches out in front of her. Her hands aren’t touching anything -- just the air; and focuses, extremely hard, on one word. 

_Mix._

_Mix._

_Mix._

Her palms heat up like somebody is holding a lighter in the center of her hand. She doesn’t have to open her eyes to know that the glow has bloomed from her veins and is spreading towards her fingertips with a honey-like consistency; calling out to the word inked on any paper in the room.

But when Julianna cracks her eyes open, her hands are glowing, and not a single paper or folder around her is matching it. 

There’s really no archived history of mixes?

A pout puckers Julianna’s lips before she can even process the disappointment. Her whole life, she is told that she’s an outcast -- and now she really feels like she is alone in this isolation that has crippled the edges of her soul since she was old enough to understand it. 

In her mind, the only logic behind this discovery is that no mix has made it in the After Realm as long as she has. The rest could have completely fallen to the Underworld and gone full-demon, or…

They just died. A punishment for however they crushed the eggshells they had been walking on because of a stupid bloodline that they couldn’t control. 

Julianna doesn’t even know if it would be possible for her to go to the Underworld as a full demon -- would her angel blood disappear like it does for pures? Or would she remain a mix, and find herself discriminated against by a new group of entities with different colored wings?

Her mother died for giving birth to a mix. 

Could she die for being a mix?

That’s what makes the last few months so painfully intoxicating and worrisome. Her friends are falling towards better lives when she doesn’t even know what she would face if she left the gates; and Luke had to come along and unknowingly make her consider that her existence could be worth so much more. 

  
She feels just as good as any pureblood when he holds her against his chest or holds her hands between his in the cold air. 

But then thinking about the temptation of Luke reminds her that he is a demon, and tempting is their bread and butter, and-

_Gah._

Julianna buries her head in her hands, completely and totally frustrated. She isn’t going to make any progress falling into her spiral of falling and insecurities and Luke. Her mission was to figure out why she gets headaches when in the mortal realm -- any bonus information that she could have dug up about being a mix would have been nice, though. 

Shimmying her shoulders and wiggling the energy out of her hands, Julianna repeats her ritualistic actions and focuses on a new term. 

_Headache._

_Head pain._

_Headache._

_Head pain._

Since headache could be debatably a more recent term, she bounces back and forth between the two ideas in case it would be inscribed differently in the archives. Once again, her hands flush with fire. 

And finally -- as was expected the first time -- a single file begins to glow; offset towards the left of the room on one of the shelves in front of her. 

She leaps up to retrieve it. 

The glow leads her right to a thin page that almost feels as breakable as a butterfly wing. Either it is nearly ancient -- which says a lot for the After Realm, which has existed since the beginning of time -- or it was purposely designed to deter too many angels from examining it closely. Julianna is flooded with the sense that she is about to examine something that is not to be seen by a teenage angel, let alone a mix. 

And, with that sense of danger similar to that of what she feels with Luke, she begins to read. 

_Effects of the mortal realm:_

_…_

_Angels may encounter serious or harmful head pain that will solely strike when they are in the presence of their tethered soul. If felt, the angel should determine who their tether is and_ _avoid them at all costs._ _The head pain is an instinctual response to danger, and will increase in magnitude the closer that the angel is physically to their tether._

For a moment, Julianna is convinced that she is reading it wrong. Or, that this is a falsified document. 

Not once has anyone ever uttered the term “tethered soul” -- is that the same as a soulmate? It was made clear to Flynn and Julianna, from many inquiries towards their educators and Elders, that deities did not have soulmates. So… It couldn’t be that. 

Then what was it?

And how did it tie to danger, and why did Julianna’s headaches work in the opposite way than described in the document?

Lovely that her attempt at research only yielded more curiosities and confusion. 

There were no more files or papers that detailed any sort of headaches, so Julianna shifted her mind to a new term that was added into her vocabulary not even five minutes ago. 

_Tethered soul._

_Tethered soul._

_Tethered soul._

Again, her call is only answered with a single illumination in the corner of the room; but it’s enough. It’s better than nothing.

It’s all that she has. 

_Soul Tethers:_

_Every angel is bound to a demon by way of their soul. In The Creation, souls were wholly separated into their pure and dark identities and divided into environments of like souls._

_Angels are to be kept away from their tethered soul for fear that their being will be polluted by the all-encompassing evil that infects a demonic soul. Angels are discouraged from hovering in the mortal realm due to the risk of uniting with their soul tether; however,_ _the likelihood of an angel finding their tether is extremely low._

_These tethered souls hold no power over an angel’s feelings or relationships. There is no “perfect demon” for a corresponding angel. Angels find their own kindred spirits within their own kind, and will continue to do so._

Julianna’s mind feels blank and busy all at once. 

More lies from the Elders towards the youth to protect them or shelter them from the realities of their identities, a possible explanation for why she gets her heachaches around Luke, and… 

What would this mean for Willie and Alex?

Her eyes scan over the final paragraph over and over. If all of this is true, and opposes the falsehoods that they had been spoonfed, then this may not affect them at all. They may not be universally-aligned soulmates, but their love for each other surpasses any supernatural force that Julianna could imagine. 

That being said -- she decides that, the next time she sees them, she won’t say anything. It would be unnecessary and honestly cruel to come across as if she is planting the idea in their heads that they aren’t made for each other; because at her core she believes they are. 

Her and Luke are another story.

Sometimes, it is so easy for her to forget that she is a mix -- does this mean she has her own tether? Or is she the exception to the rule, as she always seems to be?  
  
The headaches give her hope. Even if it is all backwards, she feels it. And she feels it with Luke.

\--

Julianna hides her learning from Flynn, too. 

It’s more excruciating than she expected, especially when her best friend comes over for their weekly wing-bleaching, and begins to inquire about the mix’s relationship with her demon. 

“Are you… You’re not… Is this serious, Julianna?”

The question locks up the air in her throat because yes, she’s worried that this is serious, because she spends her days pining for Friday to arrive so that she can feel a few meek minutes encompassed in Luke’s arms. Even if it isn’t for long, it’s enough -- because her headaches will be replaced with this addicting rush of…

Well, words cannot quite describe it. 

With the little that she knows about science, she thinks that Luke’s presence brings a physical reaction reminiscent of if each and every one of her neurons was sending helium through her brain and body. 

She understands that that is not scientifically accurate. But it’s the floating, the dizzying feeling that she is a balloon that has been inflated with joy and adoration and comfort. 

An obnoxious voice somewhere in her head demands that what she feels is simply and truly love. 

But she won’t allow herself to acknowledge it, because if she does, her life may as well be over.

“What?” She plays dumb, batting her eyelashes slowly but innocently. “Serious about what? Honestly, Flynn-”

“Freaking Luke, that’s what’s serious! You with your alter ego, going into that alleyway after his sets and thinking I won’t notice because Alex and Willie are there, but you go outside to be with him. I know you do. Just… Please, explain to me what in the world you are doing.”

_She’s tucked between his legs as he leans against the brick and has his arms folded on either side of her; attempting to align her left hand on the neck of the guitar. His lips are warm when they occasionally linger on her ear through his whispered instructions, and-_

“I’m not doing anything that will get me in trouble. No one goes back there, like, ever.”

_Her fingers knot through his hair while his head is tucked into her neck; holding her other hand and playing her fingers like they are piano keys. When he lifts her right hand to his mouth-_

“How do you know he isn’t corrupting you? That he’s not buttering you up just to strike at the perfect moment and get you killed?”

_A crumpled piece of paper unfolds in his hands as he coaxes her to harmonize in one of the latest songs he’s written for the band -- titled “Bright.” Softly, he says he would love for her to get on stage and sing with him one day, and his fingertips trail her jaw while-_

It’s too easy to convince herself that the burning in her eyes is the bleach and not tears at the thought of Luke betraying her. Maybe it’s also too easy to believe that he wouldn’t do it -- that he actually cares, and isn’t the saturated being of darkness and evil that the documents in the Archives detailed demons to be. 

The bleach brush is pressed a little too hard into her wings, and Julianna has to flinch. “I don’t know anything, Flynn. But the only person who could tell on me is you.”

“Or Nicholas.”

“If Nicholas goes to the Council, then he’s going down with me, and he knows it.”

A deep sigh leaves Flynn’s lips as she crouches down to apply the coloring to the bottom feathers that grace Julie’s wings. “If you say so. Your secret is safe with me, I just-” 

Her voice cuts off suddenly. When she stays quiet, Julianna begins to worry, but then her best friend sniffles and it all makes sense. 

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you because of that guy. I know he helped Alex, but… You’re not invincible because you’re half-demon.”

“Yes, Flynn, I know,” Julianna drones with an edge in her voice. “We don’t even know if I could fall, so why get myself killed for a guy? You’re talking in circles. I heard you the first time.”

She doesn’t mean to be so grumpy with Flynn -- but she means to be grumpy with Flynn. Flynn knows more than anybody else and she still doesn’t even know all of it; however, she is always quick to sound just as repetitive as everyone else in the After Realm. Julianna knows that her best friend loves her, but with all of the lies that are being brought to light, her patience to listen to anything that they have been classically taught is thinning. 

Everything has a question mark after it.

Her best friend is tensely silent as she finishes the bleach job; curtly flinging her gloves off and throwing them in the trash as she rinses her hands and makes her way towards the door. 

“Now’s probably a good time to tell you we need to be in and out tonight,” she flatly calls out from the doorway. “Council is cracking down on our ‘earth time’ since everyone seems to be dropping like flies. My mom barely has time for her assignment because of these restrictions. Make it count.”

Julianna watches as Flynn saunters out, and wonders seriously for the first time if she’s going to be bleaching her own wings for a while. 

\--  
  


Even though Julianna had been humming _Bright_ to herself every day since the last time she saw Luke, she didn’t expect her fleeting time with him to be spent on stage with him, singing it. 

Flynn doesn’t speak to her much when they’re at the Orpheum, so Julianna is left clinging to Luke a little more than usual -- even though it doesn’t seem as though he minds. While he goes head-to-head with Bobby in a pool competition in the back room of the bar, he tucks her snug into his side between every turn and calls her his good luck charm. 

Her best friend is off catching up with Willie and Alex, and -- not for the first time -- Julianna wonders if she’s been the butt of the joke this whole time. Flynn is off casually talking to their formerly pureblood-angel best friends while she is hugging and cheering for a full demon like they’ve known each other forever. 

(Maybe their souls have. She tries not to dwell on that old Archive document.)

Has Flynn been closer to the guys this whole time and Julianna just hasn’t noticed? Or is she just having the most intense identity crisis imaginable?

Luke must notice that her smile falters, because his hand squeezes against her shoulder. “Jules, you okay?”

Looking up at him, the grin finds its way back to her face effortlessly. 

“Never better.”

“Luke! Ten minute warning,” Reggie bursts through the door and hoists himself to sit on the edge of the pool table. “They want us to start setting up in a few.”

Luke nods, and his eyes start to sparkle with the anticipation of getting onstage before he looks down to Julianna.

“We’re gonna sing Bright tonight,” he tells her. 

“Really?” She giggles. “Good. Now I can sing along.”

“Actually, I…” Emerald searches topaz as his eyes flicker between hers as if he’s calculating all of her different possible responses.”I was hoping you could sing along, like, onstage. With me- I mean, with us. With the band.”

For an entire five seconds, all that Julianna can do is blink. And for those five seconds, Luke’s face falls deeper and deeper into regret.

“You totally don’t have to,” he starts to say, the words coming from his mouth faster than he can say them. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, it’s so ridiculous-”

“Wait, hold on, back up.”

His mouth clamps shut as she tries to process what she just heard. “You… Want me to perform? With the band?”

“Only if you want to. I didn’t even think about the fact that there might be other an- halos around that could see you-”

_There aren’t,_ she thinks to herself. The only one who could be here is Nicholas, and they have an agreement. Everyone else except for her and Flynn has been disturbingly compliant with the request to minimize their time spent in the mortal realm unless they have a case they are working on. 

So here’s her chance to touch the other side. To be a part of a group that accepts her more than her own current family does -- even though they still think she’s a pureblood, it’s clear who she fits in with more. 

And performing with Luke… 

She wonders what it would be like to see the sweat collect in his hair up close, to hear his voice right next to her in her ear instead of far up on a stage. 

“Let’s do it.” She can’t agree quickly enough. But somehow, the words are coherent, because Luke’s arms are tight around her waist and lifting her into the air as he spins them in a circle rapidly. 

He’s cheering in her ear, but she’s not focused on that. It’s so nice being surrounded by him everywhere she can consciously feel, whether it’s his support in her ear or his hands on her hips or chest vibrating with laughter under hers. 

In the blink of an eye, stage lights are beating down on her so brightly that she’s briefly reminded of when her father brought her to the After Realm as a baby and all that she can remember is the blinding white that hit her upon entry. 

A calloused hand brushes against hers as a mic is positioned in front of her, and when her faint headache dissipates she knows who it is without even needing to look. 

“You ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. I’m not a born performer like you are.”

His shoulder bumps hers distractingly as he adjusts the mic to her height. “Maybe not a born performer, but a born star. That’s for sure.”

And the bastard doesn’t even give her a moment to let his heart-stopping words register before he’s walking away to accept the guitar in Reggie’s outstretched hand. When he looks back to Julianna, it’s as if he didn’t just call her a star and make her flush red all over her body -- even in places covered by her clothes. 

“You sing the first verse, chorus, and second half of the bridge, ‘kay?”

It sounds like a lot to remember, but she knows the song by heart. _First verse, chorus, second half of the bridge_. Easy enough. 

Turning her head to look at Luke one last time before the whirlwind of performing encompasses them, she nods. “Okay. Let’s go.”

\--

Julianna has found the only other thing in the mortal realm that seems to take away the pain of her headaches besides Luke’s touch, and it’s being on a stage and singing for an audience. 

No wonder Luke does this so often. She could do this every night if she wasn’t… Well, she doesn’t want to say “in a figurative prison,” but it’s the first thing that pops into her head, so let’s stick with that. 

On the Orpheum stage, she feels more ethereal than she ever has in the After Realm. On that stage, she has real power over others and can connect with them in a way they would never allow her to back home because she isn’t a pureblood.

On this stage, she can be right next to Luke with a crowd of people watching and feel fearless. 

Every note rolls off of her tongue with grace and perfection that she has only ever known in Luke’s presence. Here, with this song and his voice entangling with hers, she _is_ an angel. That feeling empowers her to bring her mic to Luke’s mouth as he starts singing the bridge and pull him towards her as if the mic represents the magnetic charge between them.

The audience eats every interaction up.

When she finally belts the last note, the clubbers erupt into cheers. The knowledge that some of it is for her, and her performance, sends a dizzying smile onto her face as they bow and rush off of the stage so that the guys can take a quick break. 

The moment they are concealed by the stage curtain, Luke’s arms are circling her from behind and holding her to his chest firmly. 

“What did I tell you?” He murmurs, and his lips pucker a little against the shell of her ear and her knees almost buckle. “You’re a born star.”

His heart is pounding against her back at the same rate she can feel her own pulse racing. All of the adrenaline rushes to her head at once as she spins around in his arms and throws her arms around his neck enthusiastically. “Luke, that was amazing-”

His nose bumps with hers, “ _you_ were amazing-”

_“Julianna!”_

Oh, oh wow, she just-

She just came extremely, dangerously close to kissing Luke.  
  


And Flynn came and interrupted before Julianna could fall in that deep -- even though she was kind of ready to take the dive. 

The mix jumps from her demon’s arms in a hot second, and doesn’t catch the wince when she leaves his hold and how harshly she removed herself. Flynn’s arms are crossed over her chest impatiently by the side door, indicating that Julianna clearly has the next ten seconds maximum to say her goodbyes. 

“Thank you guys for letting me perform tonight. It was totally awesome, you guys are awesome-” Luke’s eyes catch hers, and for the love of the Powers That Be she needs to stop letting him take all of her attention in a single glance? “Have a great rest of your set. I’ll see you next week.”

The last part is primarily targeted towards Luke, who looks painfully disappointed that she’s leaving so soon. 

“See you next week,” he gives her a small smile, and for a moment, she almost forgets he’s a demon. He looks like the angel between the two of them -- not her. 

Flynn’s insistent grasp is tugging her away before she can fall into a spiral and decide to stay with him for another hour; consequences be damned.

\--

Raymond is sitting on the couch in their living room when she slips through the front door. The house is dark except for a single faint lamp, and the lines inscribed into his forehead seemed defined by the shadow. 

“Dad, what are you doing up?”

“You’re being safe while you’re out there, aren’t you?”

The question not only takes her by surprise -- it breaks her heart. Because by her standards, she’s being totally safe. By the standards of literally anybody else in the After Realm, she’s already halfway out of the gates. 

“Of course, why would you-”

“You’re not doing anything dangerous?”

She straightens her back, suddenly defensive. “No. I’m not. Just because my friends fell doesn’t mean I will.”

The “if I’m even able to fall” is left unsaid as she stalks off to her bedroom without another word. 

But she still feels like she just told a flaming lie as she cleans up and crawls into bed, and the guilt over discovering her freedom lulls her into a distressing night’s rest. 

* * *

**_it’s a cruel summer (with you)_ **

It’s been two weeks since she sang with Luke at the Orpheum, and she’s trying to figure out how to break it to him that she’s a mix.

They haven’t done anything more than the exhilarating almost-kiss after their performance, even though they have certainly developed an affinity for never being apart unless he’s doing a set with the band -- and even then, she’s waiting in the wings with open arms.

Luke will always try to have her in some kind of hug; whether he is wrapped around her from behind, pressing her into his side, or giving her a full hug at her front. Julianna’s hands will always be running along his arms or chest or around his neck; more physically intimate than she had ever been with anybody in her life. Every smile was like a kiss pressed to her eyelids and every touch was a brush of the lips against her skin. 

And despite how close they had become -- from sharing songs, to Underworld and After Realm drama, to the one thing they hated about being an “angel” or a demon -- she had yet to tell him about the unsavory blending of her DNA.

Her concerns were growing now as she glared at her reflection in the mirror. Flynn hadn’t been by to dye her wings in a while, and while Julianna had attempted to do the job herself, she always missed a spot. 

It became tiring after her first few tries. So now, they hung at their natural ashy shade. 

Luke wouldn’t see them, obviously. Nobody had their wings out in the mortal realm unless it was absolutely necessary. But that thought did little to shake her insecurities when it felt as though the truth would come out eventually. 

She knew she couldn’t stay in dreamworld forever. No matter how much she liked to pretend she was a human with a silly crush on a sweet guy, that was not the case; and it never would be.

Could tonight be the night? They still haven’t kissed. There’s still time for them to save themselves.

(They were in too deep a while ago. Julianna managed to convince herself of otherwise.)

Trying to hype herself up, she rolled some perfume along her neck and slipped her lavender purple dress along her arms and over her shoulders. The weather was warming in the mortal world, which meant she could show more skin for Luke to touch. 

Truly ridiculous that she correlated her bare back to Luke’s hands against it. But it was one of the many ideas that imprinted against her thoughts because it was too enticing to ignore. 

“When is Flynn coming to get you, Julianna?”

Her father is reflected in the mirror to be standing in the doorway of her room. Hoping her hair covered most of her back, she throws her light cardigan over her shoulders before he can get a good look. It’s not that her dress is looked down upon, but to her dad, it could be a red flag as to her intentions in going to the mortal world so often. 

“Oh, we’re meeting at the drop,” she informs him, running her hands over her curls one last time to make them look how she wants. “The drop” is the place in the After Realm that helps transport them to Earth, because the gates only open for the fallen. 

Raymond looks skeptical, but he nods. “Okay. Just be safe.”

Every time he tells her to prioritize her safety, the knife in her gut is twisted. 

Her mind is a constant whirlwind of denial that she isn’t doing anything wrong to the quiet acknowledgement that she is, only nobody will catch her. She wants something she can’t have. Not fully, at least. 

Whenever he preaches to be safe in the mortal realm, he’s probably thinking of the mother she never got to meet. The mother she barely knows anything about besides the fact that Julianna’s wings are gray because of her, and that Raymond feels the need to keep Julianna in check because of that.

A bittersweet smile is forced onto her face as she throws her arms around her father. 

“Of course, Dad.”

\--

The “I” in the red exit sign has been replaced, so the full EXIT glows neon cherry at full force. 

Julianna allows herself to stand right in front of the door, facing the sign fully and feeling the red tint burn against her skin as she waits. Such small light bulbs shouldn’t be powerful enough to project heat onto her cheeks -- but that might just be her going red at the thought of embracing the scarlet shower and focusing on how it blares through her eyelids and registers as pure, unfiltered red. 

The static headache is still there, though. The soft light warms it a little, but nothing absolves it like he does.

She was back here waiting for Luke to finish the encore of his set. When they wrapped, he nodded his head towards the door with a smirk that she felt in her toes; but then the club was filled with a group of particularly drunk and enthusiastic humans who were grasping at the stage and begging for more. 

Luke had looked to her for permission. Their eyes met, and she smiled with all of the encouragement that she could muster, and rushed to the back alley to collapse against him and defeat the pain she had been battling for the past five minutes. 

The sound of rocks roughly rolling across the cement ground hits her ears before the gruff voice does. 

“Excuse me,” she hears, “do you have any cash to spare?”

Whirling around, her head pans back and forth as she searches through the space for the source of the voice. Out of the shadows, next to a dumpster on the other side of the alley, emerges a man with four layers of clothing on his body and a twitch that makes him almost vibrate up and down. 

So far, he seems harmless, if not out of it. But the hair standing up on the back of her neck does not lie. 

She attempts a kind smile as she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, no, I don’t.”

The stranger glances at her hands that are tucked tightly into her pockets, the glittery shoes adorning her feet, and the dip of the neckline of her dress. 

“Really? You come out to a club and don't bring anything to pay?”

He advances, and she takes one, two three steps back. “My friend has my bag,” she tries, even though it’s a lie. She doesn’t bring a bag. She brings a few dollars that were carefully acquired for a water, and never needs more. “I’m sorry. I really don’t have anything.”

His eyes follow the same path as they did earlier. Her hands haven’t left her pockets because she feels absolutely terrified, her shoes are still sparkly, and…  
  
She’s hoping he suspects that there’s money tucked into the bust of her dress and isn’t thinking about anything else. 

“I just want anything you’ve got,” he grumbles, digging a violently shaking hand into his pocket and emerging with a sizable, easily identifiable sharp object. “I know you’ve got something.”

All that she can do is turn her head left to right, left to right, left to right. 

The only thing that is really in focus anymore is the blade unstably clutched between his fingers. He is getting closer, attempting to convince her to give him what she doesn’t have to offer. A small, naive part of her thinks that he’ll give up at some point when he comes to his senses and understands that there’s not a single dollar on her-

But then the silver edge is waved in her face and adrenaline tells her how to react without asking permission. 

Revealing themselves from the skin of her back, two identically matted wings split between her shoulder blades and extend out to her sides. Despite their lack of elegance, they are wide enough to shock and intimidate her predator. 

His response is as she had hoped: He lurches back with a shout. 

The arm wielding the knife lifts higher at her, even though he is retreating. “I- What- What are you? _Who_ are you, _monster?”_

Monster. Quite the contrast to _perfect angel,_ isn’t it? 

May as well play into it. “Get out of here,” she sneers.

“What the fuck-”

_“Get out of here!”_   
  


She doesn’t need to tell him a third time. There’s a growl in her voice that scrapes the bottom of every word and scares the man into trembling more as he bolts out of the alleyway at a speed that shocks her, given his distraught condition. 

What she just did was not always encouraged, but it was permitted when necessary. She just had to slip back into her facade as quickly as possible. 

So, she started folding her wings back under her dress and into her back when-

“Julie?”

Julianna is normally so happy to hear Luke’s voice. But her winds are still half-out, and she knows he has a direct view of them, and her heart drops into her feet. 

Desperately trying to cling onto this as long as she can, she rushes her wing-burying and spins around to face the demon with a wide smile -- only, that wide smile dies at the sight of his wide eyes. 

“Julie,” he repeats, stepping away from the closed exit door. He’s not running away screaming. Julianna takes this as a small victory. “What was- Are you okay? Did something happen?”

The sensation of his palms pressing into her shoulders and his thumbnails tracing back and forth next to her collar bone has her nearly in tears. He’s not spitting at her feet for the color or condition of her wings; he’s holding her close and caring for her. 

There’s no way he’s faking all of this, right? Why would he? 

(Unless he’s just trying to make her feel special so that she trusts him. It’s working.)

Being loved is her weakness, what can she say? People in her life have always been hesitant to love her. Like getting too close to the mix will turn their wings grey, too. Even her own father, through his own lie to the Council about whisking her away from the mortal realm on a random occasion, has become disconnected from her. 

Clasping his wrists in her hands, she tries a smile. “No, no, I’m fine. Everythings fine. There was just this creepy guy-” Luke’s hands tighten around her shoulders. “But I scared him off. Unscathed.”

Luke releases a shockingly deep breath -- as if he was genuinely worried -- before relaxing his face, and brushing his hands up her neck to hold her jaw. 

(Maybe he didn’t even see her wings. Wouldn’t that be nice? Or he couldn’t see the color in the poorly lit alley? Maybe he won’t even say-)

“I saw that. I saw… Your wings.” His eyes drop to his feet. “You didn’t tell me you were a half.”

“A what?”

“... A half? Half demon, half angel?”

“Oh,” a puff of air passes between them as she sighs, “we call them ‘mixed.’”

Luke hums in curiosity, and Julie hums back, and his hands are still melting into the skin on each side of her face but she’s worried his touch is about to turn cold. She can’t tell if he’s disgusted or disappointed or if he even cares at all. 

Her hands grip, a little tighter, onto his wrists. 

_Please stay._

“So… Why _didn’t_ you tell me? We have halves -- mixes, whatever -- there’s a ton in the Underworld. Did… Did you think I wouldn’t like you or something?”

_Nobody else does._

That’s the first thought that unfortunately arises in her head, but a thousand more follow. 

Mixes in the Underworld. There’s mixes, a ton of them apparently, in the Underworld. 

So why was her mother massacred for giving birth to one?

It’s happening again -- the feeling of a rock, or ten, thrown at her little house of glass that was built for her by other angels because they never wanted her to see the deception build into every pane. But now that the shards are on the ground, surrounding her, she doesn’t know how to make the truth out of them. 

“Julie?”  
  
Luke’s voice manages to center her. “Hmm?”

“What’s wrong? Did I say something, what did-”

“It’s just- It’s the ‘oh, there’s a ton of mixes in the Underworld’ thing. I… I told you my mom died, right?”

He nods; staring down at her and into her eyes like she’s the only thing worth his attention. “Yeah, a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah. Okay. So…” _Why does it feel so weird to say?_ “She was a demon. And my dad told me that when I was born, and they saw I was a mix, they were going to kill her so she left me somewhere in the mortal realm for my dad to find me and bring me-” _Home._ The word that should finish her sentence, but doesn’t. “-to the After Realm.”

Luke looks clearly as perplexed by the situation as she is. His eyebrows knot in a way that she would croon to be adorable before rubbing out the wrinkles with her thumb if her mind didn’t feel so busy. 

“Wow, uh, okay. Okay. How about I try to do some research for you?”

“What?”

“Like, why we have so many halves in the Underworld now versus why some parents were killed, or why the halves were killed, or-” 

Julianna freezes. 

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- Fuck. It’s only happened a couple of times that I know of. It’s not common. But the halves normally stay in the Underworld from birth because…”

“... Because?”

“Their demon side is likely to win out in the end,” he sighs. His hands move up to scrape against the back of her neck, and tug a little through her hair, because he knows it relaxes her. “It’s not that one side is more powerful than the other, but my parents told me that it's the ‘extended freedom’ that we get as demons that is more appealing out of the two identities. And once you’re in the Underworld, the only way anyone ‘falls’ down there is…”

When he trails off, both of them are able to autocomplete his sentence. Even for full demons, everybody knows that there is no “second chance” like if you’re an angel that falls. If you start in the Underworld, you either stay there or are destroyed. 

Erased from existence. 

Even though there are still a million questions and thoughts and emotions that she has to process, Julianna chooses one to express in the moment. She needs confirmation.

“So… You’re not… I’m not…” Air feels heavy in her chest. Just one person -- she needs just one person. “I’m not disgusting to you? I’m not a monster? Or a bad angel, or-”

“Julie,” he says, at full volume and with a firm tone. His hands apply more pressure to the back of her neck so that her head tilts up to look at him; and she notices how close she is to him, how she wants to be closer, but doesn’t dare more. “You are still the most beautiful angel I’ve ever seen.”

Tears prick in her eyes and _no, don’t start crying right now, not when you think you’re realizing you’re in love._

His forehead drops to meet hers. The new skin-on-skin contact, despite how much their hands have already roamed, takes her breath away. “I don’t know if you think you’re a bad angel because of being a mix, or because we’ve been doing this, but… You’re perfect to me. That might not matter much, coming from a demon, but-”

Julie surges onto her tiptoes and kisses him. 

The impact sends him stumbling back, but her hands bundle in his shirt on either side of his torso and hold him upright with all her might. She’s never kissed before, but she feels so hungry to feel him and more of him and everything he will give her.

And he gives her what she wants. 

His hands turn more forceful in keeping her mouth against his; curling into fists in her hair and unwinding and winding curls around each finger. The sparks are back next to her ears, but this time they are all over her body -- popping and firing and releasing euphoria instead of pain as his tongue slides through his lips to flick against hers.

The hands that were once in her hair are roughly sliding down to her hips as her mouth parts underneath his; willingly responding to every hum and caress and kiss. Her satisfied hums propel him to touch more and bite more and do everything possible to withdraw more sounds identical to them.

Julie’s hand tugging at his hair is what does it for him -- and in what feels like a second, the brick is holding her upright as Luke melts farther into her. She wants his soul fused with hers. She wants him to be true. 

_Perfect angel._

The sentiment is repeated in her ear when his leg is pushing up between hers, and his tongue is tasting the collarbone he loves to feel under his fingertips, and his hands are splayed across the back that she left bare for this purpose. 

Being perfect was unachievable in the After Realm. And while the Orpheum alleyway isn’t the After Realm, she still senses an unbelievable level of pride in that she achieved it somewhere.

\--

The front door shuts behind her as silently as possible. 

There’s a light on in the living room, so Julie wonders if her father stayed up again or if he just left a light on for her -- the answer is neither. Well, probably the first option, but the sight of him asleep on the couch means he didn’t make it to see her home safe. 

What is she going to do? 

Julie’s found herself in a web that she knows she can escape, she just doesn’t know how. Something is missing.

So far, her relationship with Luke is protected. Flynn won’t tell, despite how frustrated she is with Julie; and demons don’t get in trouble for really anything in the mortal realm unless one of their leaders is present to see the violation occur. Nicholas won’t say anything either, because he knows that Julie has seen him with his own clan of demonic friends who he shouldn’t be with. 

But the issues of soul tethers, what happened to her mom, and if she could go to the Underworld without having to “fall” -- a possibility she hadn’t thought too much about -- all remain unsolved. 

Luke is hopefully going to help her on the second one. No one and nothing could help her on the third one unless she experiments, which sounds too dangerous when her mortality is at stake; and the first one… 

She glances down to her father, coldly curled up on the couch. 

Waking him would do no good. But on the chance he could still have a sliver of consciousness left, she may as well try. This experimentation is significantly less life-or-death. 

Quietly, she steps over to the ottoman that has a neatly folded blanket on top of it and carefully tries to fully unravel it. Approaching her father, she drapes the blanket over his body and watches fondly as he seems to relax into the new source of warmth with a stir. 

This is her chance. 

_“Dad,”_ she whispers; so quiet that he probably couldn’t even-

“Hmm?”

Nevermind. She got him. His hum was really just a barely audible vibration, but it was an acknowledgement.

“Did your head ever hurt when you were with Mom?”

They never talk much about her mother. She hopes it won’t snap him out of this blissful, half-asleep state he’s in. 

Another hum precedes his response. “All the time.” His lips curl into a faint smile that Julie can really only see thanks to the lamp light. “Worth it.”

That was all that she needed.

Turning the dial on the lamp excruciatingly slow, she turns it off and prays that the click or sudden darkness wouldn’t jolt her father awale. His breathing remains even, so she takes the cue to tiptoe upstairs and shut the door to her bedroom behind her with a relieved smile on her face. 

_Worth it._

_Yeah,_ she thinks as her fingertips -- the same ones that had been running along the prominent veins in Luke’s neck and drawing groans out of him when they dragged down his scalp -- trace her lips in a clockwise, fluid motion. _It’s worth it._

(Only, she doesn’t know what “it” is going to be.)

((Spoiler: “It” _will_ be worth it.))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god, so many questions and so little answers! i wonder what y'all are thinking right now. RIP julie's whole identity crisis this poor girl 
> 
> i am expecting for this to be about 6 parts total. that is subject to change lol but thats what i have in my outline! thank you all for being patient with my updates AND for sticking with me this far! i have gotten really positive reactions to this and i am so thankful for it because i cannot wait to keep bringing you through this world and this story. 
> 
> see you in the next chapter, thank you so much for reading!!!!! <3


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